On spring

All that is good is growing.
Yesterday and so many yesterdays
it seemed dead. But now
the deep God stirs in her earth,
and seed and root remember sky
and brightened make their move
towards it. Life rubs its eyes, spring
no longer a dream to sustain
through the colding days
but a reality born from sunlight
and bluebells and the sure refrain
of the chiffchaff.
All that is good is growing;
the darker season has had its time
and will do so again, a knowledge
to make these thrill bloomings
all the sweeter. The return of the swallows
is only marked because they left,
and will leave. But today in the fields
the lambs are becoming sure of their feet,
and green is dancing once more in the trees,
and in the gardens there is a tenderness
showing itself in the eyes of the flowers.
I see that I am not dead,
nor is the hope that I was once born into.
I see the meaning in our burials –
that despairing we might rise for air
and unexpectedly find it, and explore it
with lungs made new by thankfulness.
Even though the last stands of cold
may cling to us, along with the clenching memory
of winters past – all those dyings of our hearts –
even so, today and so many todays:
all that is good is growing.

 

Gideon Heugh

Snowdrop

kiwihug-Cqkidu1WhqQ-unsplash

Snowdrop

Observe the man. I mean
this man, parched in the midst
of all kinds of plans,
longing for the moisture of meaning.

Observe the snowdrop. I mean
this snowdrop, risen quite suddenly
on a bare lawn, a bead of night rain
clinging to its bowed head.

See how small it is,
how utterly without
what you might call strength
or ambition, see
how it makes even winter smile.

Little wet flower,
so unhuman,
so entirely alive.

Gideon Heugh

 

A prayer for 2020

May this be a year
in which we slow down,
pay close attention,
pause, breathe, be still.

May this be a year
in which we reconnect with nature,
use all of our senses
and re-tune our souls to wonder.

May this be a year
in which we are kinder
to the Earth, to each other
and to ourselves.

May this be a year
in which we say no:
no to busyness, no to more stuff,
no to anger and hatred and despair.

May this be a year
in which we say yes:
yes to stargazing, yes to birdsong,
yes to hope and forgiveness and love.

May this be a year
in which our minds are open,
our arms wide,
our hearts full.

Gideon Heugh

Do you not know? Have you not heard?

shallow-focus-photography-of-yellow-star-lanterns-980859

A Christmas poem

Stop. Do you not know?
Life doesn’t have to be this way;
something new can be born in your heart today.

Listen. Have you not heard?
Your whole being sings the love song of Christ;
this world is drenched in the wonder of his light.

Breathe. Will you accept it?
You can let your striving fall away;
let it dissolve into beauty and grace.

Open your eyes. Can you see it?
You have nothing to prove, nothing to fear;
God is with us, heaven is here.

Gideon Heugh

A prayer for sabbath, Autumn

autumn-autumn-leaves-autumn-mood-forest-3132908 (1)

Lord, help me to love myself
in the same way that I love
the sunbeam
and the scent of fallen leaves.

Help to hold myself
in the same way I am held
by the Autumn morning
stretching its golden arms
around my heart.

And help me to believe
increasingly
in this world of aching wonder,
which somehow
includes me.

Gideon Heugh

How to be more alive

alone beach calm dawn

How to be more alive

First, open your arms
to your own humanity;
give the gorgeous mess
of your entirety
a warm welcome, remembering
that all of you is loved,
free from limit or condition.

Second, drop your heart
into a pool of wonder –
the sacred, healing healing water
found wherever there are trees
or birds or streams or hills
or the opulence of an unfiltered sky.
Do not let the screens hem you in;
seek instead the heaven-wrought,
the Spirit-woven –
all that brightly sings
of the Abundance.

Third, let your love travel
beyond all bounds,
let the curtains tear before it
so that nothing is left unadored –
including your brokenness
and the failings of the world.
Every soul walks with a limp,
and not one is unworthy
of compassion’s warm embrace.

 

Gideon Heugh

Empire

69471065_2430655413831731_3842191126396141568_o

It’s easy to look at the news these days and feel hopeless. Politicians are dragging democracy through the dirt, xenophobia and racism keep rearing their ugly heads, and all the while the poor and the marginalised are ignored.

But there is hope. History is littered with the bones of empires. Power is powerless against love, which is the only thing that lasts forever. If you tread all over other people for your own gain, you are setting yourself against the truest and deepest forces in the universe.

God is a direction. We are moving forward. We always have been and we always will be. And the power-grabbers and money-snatchers will always get left behind.

‘Empire’

The fall of every empire
is pre-ordained,
the fires of oppression
cannot be sustained.

The cry for deliverance
will always be heard –
liberation never fails:
hope has the final word.

So do not despair
at the empires around you,
even though power and greed
and corruption surround you;

lift up your heart,
lift it to the light,
for the Spirit of the Ages
bends to our plight.

Peace,
Gideon Heugh x

What hope do we have then?

Night will fall on you. Of course it will.

You will find yourself alone one day
wandering the desert
of your failures.

You will stand by the deathbed
of your dreams,
helpless and afraid.

What hope do we have then?

My friend, when the Spirit
wrapped itself in the Rabbi’s flesh,
it declared that we are to have life
in all its fullness,

yet we have forgotten
that half of life is death,
that God was hammered
into the corpse of a tree,
that decay is the fertile ground
from which the stems
of existence grow.

We have forgotten that night
is simply an opportunity
to anticipate
another sunrise.

 

Gideon x

One year!

64542742_2379303428966930_2468597320267071488_o

It’s been a whole year since I let my little book out into the world. Where does the time go? I’m still overwhelmed/humbled by the love it received. You guys are awesome.

The book was born out of love, grief and hope. Love for this gorgeous world we live in; grief for the way we treat it; and hope because… well, there’s always hope.

Poetry is a kind of therapy for me. Words are a map through my emotions. The last few years have been both some of the most wonderful and difficult of my life. Joy and heartbreak; new life and deep loss. That’s often how it goes, isn’t it? I’ve tried to pour as much of this onto the page as I can – a lot of which I’ve shared with you online as well.

I’m just getting started with this whole poetry journey, and I’m glad I get to bring you all along for the ride.

Peace,
Gideon Xxx

Your you-ness is unimprovable

61430952_2365767306987209_2014211770582827008_o

‘Smarter, faster, slimmer, stronger, wealthier…’ Yeeeaaah no.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for personal growth. I’m all for staying healthy – physically and spiritually. But part of being healthy is not putting pressure on yourself. You don’t need to conform to anyone else’s standards. You’re fine the way you are. In fact, you’re better than fine. Your you-ness is unimprovable.

Our society’s obsession with outward success, with constantly striving for more, is unhealthy on every level. If you want something to strive for, make it kindness. More love. More peace. More patience. But again, there’s no need to put pressure on that. Growth is a journey – one that takes a lifetime.

Trees aren’t in a hurry to grow. And they don’t waste energy trying to be something they’re not. Go ahead and try to push one over.

Gideon x